Morning Routines
by Batgirl
Summary: Just a special thought of what might happen to a certain billionaire when the need arises for a new Morning routine, is HUMOR involved?? YEAH right—in Bruce Wayne?! READ if you DARE!!


Title:Morning Routines

Author: Batgirl

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Just a special thought of what might happen to a certain billionaire when the need arises for a new Morning routine, is HUMOR involved?? YEAH right—in Bruce Wayne?! READ if you DARE!!

Disclaimer: Bruce Wayne is property of DC Comics as well as all other related characters. I'm just borrowing the characters for the likes of this fic.

Note: Some related themes can be found within Superboy #83. I got the idea for writing this after I read the comic and talked to one of my friends. Thanks AGAIN "Kara" for helping me out! Set in the animated universe, POV.

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Alfred: **knocks on the door gently** Master Bruce?? I DO think it's time for you to wake up **opens the door and walks in** Rise and SHINE Sir!

Bruce: **stirs rolling out of bed slightly** Nugh—FIVE more minutes??

Alfred: **opens the curtains letting the sun shine through** I DON'T think that's the proper decision. You DO have a seven o' clock meeting to attend to

Bruce: **mumbles into the pillow** Maan... what I wouldn't GIVE--

**

The typical morning always seems to start out the same way. Get up, coffee, shower, get dressed, coffee, and then off to work. The same routines all seem to add to you in one way or another, and now I'm starting to think that the normal routine is starting to drive me a little bit crazy.

It all started about two weeks ago while I was at the Gotham Mall.You would have to believe that I'm laughing. Seeing Bruce Wayne go shopping is something that is definitely NOT common. Okay, so I needed a change in routine, but yet….doesn't everyone at one point? 

I strolled into Macy's and started for the men's section. Alfred had been on my case days earlier to buy new sleepwear. I of course protested and told him that I didn't need anything to sleep in.

"If you don't go out and purchase more acceptable sleepwear,I will have to be forced to go out and get it for you. You can't be wondering around the place with gaping holes in your sleep shirts…" he paused for a moment eyeing my silk pants as well as the shirt that just seemed to dangle from my shoulders. "And the holes in your….lower vicinities seem to be air conditioning your—"

"May I help you, sir?" An interruption, oh this is great. Might as well get this over with. It seems like I haven't slept in days.

I shake my head. "No thank you..." I don't need any help, I'm just here to get a few sleep shirts as well as a few pair of pants. Nothing major…right? Walking over to the sleep section I start wading through the racks ofclothing, letting my fingers run along the fabric. I think something soft against my skin is needed. Sleeping doesn't seem to come all that natural to me anymore and when I **do** want to sleep, I want it done right.

I soon settle upon a navy blue set ofJammer's. Ha! Jammers? That brings back a lot of old memories. I can almost hear my mother calling to me, telling me that it was bed time.

"Aw, c'mon mom. Right after Grey Ghost!" a young Bruce Wayne looks back to his mother seeing her hands placed on her hips giving him a stern look.

She caves in and smiles. "All right Bruce….then I want you in your jammer's RIGHT after it's over."

"Yes mom!"

Such wonderful memories, such wonderful parents. They loved me, cared for me…then the unmistakable happens. Two shots, both impending to collide with both of them, me… Well, I'm the only witness, watching as the men ran off with those hideous grins on their faces. Why do bad things happen to such good people? I suppose it's a way of nature, something in the chemical balance of a human that causes them to pull the trigger. What can I do? That answer seems simple enough to answer. I keep watch, high over head making sure that type of thing never happens again. I have to watch the city, make sure everything keeps it's peace. Though, this task isn't always so easy. The scars that I now have prove that at least a small part of justice has been served. But I do know that there will always be many more murders, more muggings. I'm out there, YES—to protect and serve.

"Thank you very much, sir." The clerk smiles to me. She whispers something to one of the girl's at her side and start giggling. What IS it with women? It's times like this I with I had Superman's sense of hearing, I can notice things to a better extent and have a more accurate auditory development. 

I quickly shrug it off and take my bag in hand and prepare to exit the store. I smile slightly at the purchase. And here Alfred thought I wasn't capable of going out to get what **I** wanted. The slippers seem to be a NICE touch though…they look dreadfully comfortable.

Once again I'm back in the parking garage and open the door to my car and set the bag down on the passenger's side. The drive home is fairly easy, there's hardly any traffic clogging the streets. Wonder why…It's a weekday, there should be rush hour traffic. But no…there's hardly a car on the street.Am I taking the scenic route? The back streets? Well whatever the reason for the lack of cars, I seem to like it. I reach over and turn on one of the local jazz stations and listen to the soft, interloping music all the way back to the manor.

Once I get back into the manor I'm greeted by my long time friend. The one person who's looked after me all of these years, my trusted friend, and companion. "Good evening, sir.

I simply nod to the man as I take off my coat. The manor's air is definitely a LOT warmer than the cold autumn's air out yonder. But now… it all seems appropriate. "I'm going to get a few hours of sleep…test out the new…merchandise."

"Very good sir, sleep well."

A very subtle trip is taken upstairs, where I dump the contents of the previous day's spending. The tags to the new clothing are easily cut with my teeth. Who needs scissors nowadays? Besides, I don't feel like looking around for objects…I can't exactly remember where I put them last anyway. I groan realizing the thought. Is THAT a sign of old age? A quick look in the mirror my hands running through my hair. "Is that—gray??"

The door suddenly flies open as a bright-eyed boy questionably looks at me. "I heard ya got some new threads!?" He looks me over realizing I'm pulling at a few distinguished strands of my hair. "The gray catching up with ya huh??" he snickers plopping himself down on my bed. "KITTY SLIPPERS!!??" he bursts into hysterical laughter.

"What?" I calmly ask him placing my hands at my sides all the while I take off my black socks tossing them to the corner of the room, not really caring where they land.

"PUH-LEEZE tell me these are for Barb, or ME."

I take them from his grasp and place them on the floor sliding my feet into them. "No… I got them for MY enjoyment." The feel of the slippers seem to warm my feet. Judging by Tim's comment, I'm thinking he finds this humorous. 

"HAHAHAHA!! What are THEY gunna do?? Talk to my old bunny slippers??"

"NO." I sigh to myself softly. I thought I wasn't going to be disturbed. Wasn't he playing video games when I left the house? "They're going to have a conference with my loafers."

Tim just stared at the me for a moment. He MUST have thought I was pulling his leg. He shrugged grinning slightly. "Mmmhmmm." He started for the door. "Ha! A conference!! Hysterical Bruce… you DO realize that?"

I only nod looking down to the fuzzy slippers beneath me. What was so funny? That was just one thing that I truly couldn't get. "You DON'T believe me?"

"I'll believe it WHEN I see it." Tim stopped turning back to the man. He looked the man over seeing a different tone in the man's appearance. And it WASN'T the new sleepware either. "Are you ON sumthin'?" he asked bluntly.

"Excuse ME?" Did I HEAR him correctly?

"ARE YOU TAKING DRUGS?? Did you like BUST some guy and snort up his dope?"

I raise an eyebrow with self contempt. Was he delusional

  


? "No." I said simply.

"You lyin'?" he pushed.

"No. Why would I have REASON to lie?" I counter.

Tim sighed. "I GUESS you're right." He started again for the door. "Well, I'm gunna head down stairs and get something to eat, kay??"

Maybe playing with the boy's mind could bring a little fun into the evening. "Jackass' say WHAT?" he mumbled.

Tim turned around un-sure of what he just said. "What??"

I snicker. "Oooh nothing Tim..." I then wave him off. "G'night."

Tim wasn't too sure about his… friend's suspicious nature and THAT was clearly felt.. "Yeah Man.. keep it real." With that he left the room.

Making sure the door was locked I then slip into the rest of my attire. Boy, the fabric definitely felt good against my skin, and THAT I could admit to. Walking over to my bed I plop myself down looking to the ceiling. So THIS is what it felt like to relax? Was it an overall GOOD feeling, or was it something MUCH different? Well what EVER it was.. the whole goofing off part seemed to be the better prospect of things. I ONCE felt this relaxed… back when… disaster struck and I married Susan. Damn, Ivy for creating her. She was… perfect, but a little TOO perfect for MY blood.

The morning comes soon enough, birds awakened me. Birds? Where the hell did THOES come from? One hardly EVER heard birds anymore. The morning sun seems to be glittering through my window. I slowly sit up feeling an unmistakable feeling in my lower back. A short groan is followed by a hand reaching out to run my tense muscles. "I must have slept all wrong." I confess. There's small trickling sound in the distance. Was someone in the bathroom?? How did they get in? I perk my head up. "Someone's pissin' in MY bathroom??"

My foot comes down almost immediately feeling a wet substance at my feet. Oh great. This was DEFINITLY perfect! I toss the bed sheets to the side quickly looking down to a **certain** area. 'PLEASE tell me I didn't pee—"

There's a quick knock at the door. "Bruce." The voice outside whined. "There's some strange smelling LIQUIDleaking from up here. My heads all wet and my sheets are wet--"

That voice was recognizable, it could only have been Tim.

"Did you PEE all night in BED??" I can hear the laughter in his voice. "Is it FLOODED in there?? Need a PEE proof boat to come out?"

"No!" I call out to him. I look... EVERYTHING wet—HOW could this have happened. Did I actually—I shake my head with confusion. "I KNOW it's flooded I'll… be out in a moment." I stand up stepping on something sharp. "Oh fu—"

I can hear Tim's echoing laughter. I bet THAT was pleasurable for him to hear. "HAHAHA!! OPEN UP!!"

I ignore that one sitting down in the puddle of mess. My keys?? I pick them up and look to the bed. "It's NOTHING." I tell him still rubbing my throbbing foot. "My WATER bed sprung a leak." More laughter... that's ALL I can here by now.

"SURE YOU DID!! Don't LIE!!" 

I pull myself up opening the door letting it swing open. Alfred's face is beyond anything I've seemed before. Was it anger? Frustration?? "Heh heh.." I rub the back of my neck in despair. "My water bed sprung a leak."

~~~~~~~~

Bruce: **hangs onto the side of the counter** A STRANGE couple of days those were, I can tell you THAT. They were a definite change for me as well as the people who seemed to be around me. For SOME reason from that day forward my mornings have NEVER been the same. Ask Tim here—

Tim: **is pulling on a toaster that's stuck on Bruce's hand** Nuuugh!!!! **pulls some more** This thing is SOO not coming off! WHY did you HAVE to INSIST on pulling that bagel out with a FORK!?

Bruce: **winces** There was a SMALL piece still STUCK inside—

Tim: Well you COULDA at LEAST turned OFF the toaster before you DID it.. **rolls eyes** Jeez! Didn't even WAIT til it was done

Bruce: I was HUNGRY!

FADE OUT


End file.
